


Rivalries, rivalries

by Yalys (MoiMoi)



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Frottage, Hate Sex, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, mercutio x tybalt, no beta we die like - no one - no one dies in romeo & julius, only sort of, play charas, tsuzuita but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29376792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoiMoi/pseuds/Yalys
Summary: What happens when you got a city caught up in foolish clan fights and guys who love to pick fights at every non-reason ever? You get tension. A lot of tension. And Mercutio and Tybalt are the kings of having no self-control~ but then things get a little out of hand.*written for NSFW Week Valentine edition - Day 5 : Play universe -> Romeo & Julius
Relationships: Chigasaki Itaru/Minagi Tsuzuru
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18
Collections: A3 NSFW Week: Valentine's Edition





	Rivalries, rivalries

Verona.    
  
A city made ugly by the feud between two of the important noble families. In the middle stands the prince, ruler, but doesn’t he feel powerless? Unable to stop the Capulets and Monagues from fighting, unable to even keep his own family in the middle as some pick sides…

Such as one young, temperamental Mercutio. His tight friendship with Romeo Montague makes him resentful of the Capulets, despite his freedom to visit both houses and duty to be loyal to neither. And on the other side, the equally short-tempered Tybalt has his eye on Romeo and Mercutio.

One evening Mercutio walks into a bar. He longs for a good beer, maybe some company of a lady, if one of such ilk is available. Unlike Romeo, romance and marriage aren’t so much on his mind.

Yet his mood is disturbed when he finds a nearby seat occupied by Tybalt, who already scowls at him.    
  
Mercutio orders his beer, and slowly turns to the Capulet.   
  
“Why, if it isn’t Tybalt. Should you not hurry home to your mother?”   
  
“Mercutio. Seeing your face just made my beer turn sour.”   
  
“Perfect, you’ve had enough anyway.”

“I just started, so I think I’ll have another. Bet you’re the one here who pisses his pants after one pint.”

Mercutio tilts his head, as if he hadn’t heard what Tybalt said.

“Poetic, coming from you.”   
  
The barman puts a large wooden mug of beer on the counter in front of Mercutio, and with a tired sigh he brings another to the table Tybalt sits at.

He’s used to squabbles and fights, even if he doesn’t like them, and these two in particular are well-known for picking fights.

“You wanna bet, then?” Tybalt snarls.   
  
“Why yes. Allow me to prove that I’m better than you at everything.”

The men glare at each other, and as if they practiced it, they grab their beer and pour the contents down their throats at exactly the same pace. Naturally once is not enough to satisfy their sense for competition, so after Mercutio burps loudly, they order another beer. And another. And another.   
  
Tybalt hics and Mercutio roars with laughter. Not like he didn’t hic himself after his previous pint.    
  
“Ya getting light-headed, little Tybalt?”   
  
“Hell no, mini-Mercutio!”

The pub is steadily getting emptier, and the ladies that Mercutio might have tried to seduce have left with other, less competitive men of lesser nobility.

The barman gives them another beer, hopes they’ll just leave or take the fight outside, if it comes to that. 

“For the record, I’m taller than you.” Mercutio says with a smirk. Well yes, he’s standing at the bar. And he’s not swaying on his feet yet.   
  
“Barely. I swear you only look taller.”   
  
Tybalt puts his beer down with a thud that makes beer splash out of his mug, and gets up from his stool. For a moment he has to lean on the table, but he quickly regains his balance.    
  
Mercutio chuckles. He looks up and down at the other man, dressed in his usual fancy blue hues. The capulets definitely have money, and like to show it off.    
  
“Come closer then, let’s compare.”   
  
Glaring at Mercutio for all his mockery, Tybalt does so, standing closely in front of the other man dressed in his not any less fancy but differently styled clothes. His jacket did sit nice and snug on his wide shoulders… and indeed, Tybalt has to admit that Mercutio is a little taller.

“Fine, you win this one,” he says, jealousy burning in his pink eyes.    
  
Admitting his defeat doesn’t deter him from grabbing his pint and finishing it.   
  
“How about it Mercu-hic-tio? A duel then?” He steps back and draws his sword.   
  
“You wanna brawl? Fine by me!” Mercutio follows, and moves away from the counter to a more open space..   
  
The barman sighs. “Slashes on my furniture will cost you!” he shouts at them, but gets strictly ignored.

Despite the faint unsteadiness, Tybalt is lighter on his feet than Mercutio, and he nearly manages to strike the man’s upper arm. Mercutio however dodges and parries the next attacks. He also loses his balance once, vision momentarily blurring as he tries to regain his stance.   
  
Mercutio decides he’s got enough of playing defensive and strikes at Tybalt, the force nearly knocking the man’s sword out of his hands. Tybalt turns and slashes at Mercutio, who is late to block, but catches the sword and pushes back. Tybalt does too. They’re close, beads of sweat visible on their foreheads, their eyes locked and full of animosity.   
  
It’s well-known that the two are evenly matched, however Mercutio has more strength while Tybalt excels in technique. They step back at the same time, glaring and cautiously trying to figure out what the other will do next. Tybalt attacks again, but Mercutio parries him, and gets closer to cut into his range.    
  
“Getting tired?” He teases, yet he’s breathing decidedly heavier himself.   
  


Tybalt just clicks his tongue in annoyance. As if to prove himself, he charges in again, and strikes with more speed, not caring much about his surroundings as he gives Mercutio a hard time. Finally, Mercutio gets distracted when has stepped so far back that he ends up with his back against the counter, and Tybalt succeeds in disarming him.

Mercutio’s sword clatters to the tile floor and Tybalt swoops in with the tip of his sword under the man’s chin.   
  
“Who’s tired, Mercutio?”   
  
“Ugh-”

“Surrender. Or do you want to die at my hands tonight?”

Mercutio hates the teasing tone in Tybalt’s voice. But he has no choice, he fought his fights fairly. “I surrender. You win this round.”   
  
Tybalt lowers his sword and smirks at Mercutio. He’s clearly proud of his victory, and the way he looks kind of good with that grin pasted on his face pisses off Mercutio even more.

“Damn you, Tybalt! I was hoping to have a nice time with a fair lady, and now fighting you has made me get sweaty.”

Tybalt laughs, it’s light and mocking. “A lady? The ladies have all left, dear man! Even if they had not, who’d want to share the bed with you?”

Mercutio huffs and reaches out swiftly to grab Tybalt by his collar.   
  
“What did you say? The ladies love me, for surely I have to offer more than what you have in store!”

“Oh, you’re confident? Shall we check?”

Mercutio’s face gains some extra color that is not from the previous duel, but caused by his manhood being questioned. He is however, quite confident.   
  
“And you would call me indecent whenever I flirt? I suppose your standards are warped, as are most of you Capulets.”   
  
“Leave my family out of it, this is between you and me,” Tybalt snarls.   
  
Mercutio raises an eyebrow. “Indeed, it is. So let’s see.” He blatantly puts his hand on Tybalt’s crotch and squeezes, groping at the man’s cock.   
  
For a brief moment Tybalt is taken aback by the sudden action, and lets out an embarrassing yelp, but he recovers and mirrors Mercutio. His slender hand is met with some...resistance, and actually there’s a fairly visible bulge under the brown fabric.

“You’re actually…” Despite himself, Tybalt feels blood rush to his face, as well as down there, where Mercutio is palming him through his pants.

“Mmh, I can feel you grow too, you pervert.”

“I am  _ not _ a pervert,” Tybalt objects through gritted teeth. Yet he cannot deny that his pants are getting tight. He sighs, and decides that if they are in fact doing this, he should take the lead. He’s not a pervert, heaven forbid, but he won’t let Mercutio of all people toy with him like this.

He tilts his chin up and smirks at Mercutio. “We’re just comparing sizes because you think you got this one in the bag.” His hands begin to undo the other’s belt, and then open the buttons of his trousers. As proper nobles should, Mercutio wears some white underwear as well. Luckily it’s clean, although Tybalt regrets having nothing to mock.   
  
After all, he has to admit that Mercutio’s size was...impressive. So he says nothing about it while his fingers stroke down his length. If he stops now, he’d be surrendering, and surely he would not!

To make it worse, Mercutio leans in, so Tybalt can’t see that the man has a blush on his face, and whispers. “You  _ are _ a pervert. You enjoy touching my cock, don’t you?”

Tybalt hisses because Mercutio then thumbs at his tip, and even though it’s through fabric, he can feel it.   
  
“As are you, for touching mine,” he weakly replies. Oh dear god, he’s being played! 

Mercutio hums, not even attempting to deny it, which annoys Tybalt even more. He proceeds to undo Tybalt's belt, and without any grace he straight up slips his hand underneath the fabric, freeing his hardening cock.   
“Degenerate…”    
  
“Come on now, take mine out too,” Mercutio edges him on.   
  
Good thing the pub is now empty thanks to their brief swordfight, and the barman has retreated to his kitchen.    
  
Tybalt lets out a groan, but he cannot back down from his own challenge. That would just be dishonorable. So he does pull down Mercutio’s underwear and reveals his embarrassingly hard erection. Does this man get off on fights or is he secretly into this.  _ Disgusting. _

“So, what do you think,” Mercutio asks as the silence lasts and Tybalt would rather let go of the junk in his hand but he can’t. He’s no coward.   
  
“You’re hard. It’s gross.”    
  
Mercutio scoffs. “Touch it a little more. It can still grow.”   
  
Tybalt flushes again, and with that Mercutio squeezes his cock harder, wrapping all his fingers around his shaft, pumping up and down the way that is supposed to-    
  
“Haah-”  _ Feels good. _ _   
_

Unwillingly Tybalt’s hand twitches and grips Mercutio’s dick harder, copying the motions out of sheer shock. Why does that man’s hand feel so good on his cock? He’s hard now too, and he finally looks up at Mercutio.   
  
Tybalt is met with the green-blue eyes that stand out so much compared to the red in his clothes, and the usually cool hues are currently a little hazy, as Mercutio looks down with his lips slightly parted.   
  
Mercutio then uses his free arm to pull Tybalt closer by his waist, bringing their lower regions together. He pulls Tybalt against himself so easily, and lets out a groan. He is actually enjoying this. Maybe because all the beer he poured into himself is making him slightly light-headed, or maybe just because Tybalt touching his cock doesn’t feel bad at all.

He hums, noticing that because they are not too far apart in height he can easily compare their dicks in size - though there is no need to put them next to each other, it’s clear enough that Mercutio has the upper hand in this regard. It’s still quite a sight, and Mercutio can’t help but wrap his hand around both of them together.   
  
“I win this round,” he says with a smirk, stroking up the both of them, making Tybalt groan.

“Ugh- I guess your dick is bigger, but I’m more handsome anyway.”   
  
No immediate reply follows, so Tybalt once again looks at Mercutio’s face and finds him smiling softly, head tilted a bit to the side.   
  
“That’s true, you are prettier.”   
  
“You bet, I-”

Suddenly Mercutio’s face is close. Far too close, his lips close down on Tybalt’s and he swallows the rest of his words. He would pull back, but the hand that was previously pressed into his lower back now holds his head in place.    
  
He groans, and gasps when he’s giving a second of relief, but between Mercutio’s hand speeding up to rub their cocks together and his mouth opening to invade Tybalt’s, there is too much going on.   
  
Tybalt feels himself going dizzy, unable to object or refuse, and worst of all, feeling hot and needy. If he can’t beat Mercutio, then he should at least pay him back. Not let him lead all of this!    
  
So Tybalt gives in, he kisses Mercutio back, one of his hands holding on to the man’s chest, while the other joins down below.    
  
Naturally that only fires up Mercutio more. He’s barely taking breaks in kissing Tybalt while he works both of their dicks with his hand, his thumb sometimes coming up to their heads, rubbing and circling them, pressing where it feels good.

Their heated moans sound loud in the empty pub, beer mugs forgotten on both table and counter top, while they somehow synchronize and release their loads at the same time, their cocks and hands slick with their own and each other’s cum.

Finally they pull back, move away from each other in awkward silence. Tybalt is angry, at himself though, for getting caught up in...whatever that was.

He glares at Mercutio and wipes his hand on the man’s jacket.   
  
“Hey what gives?”   
  
“It’s your fault. Dumbass.”   
  
Tybalt does not want to admit his heart is beating fast. It’s scary. He hates this guy. Doesn’t he?

Mercutio looks at Tybalt as he fixes his clothes. There’s still a blush on his cheeks that compliments his eyes. It’s cute. When has Tybalt ever been cute?   
  
Then Tybalt looks at him again.   
  
“We are not talking about this.”   
  
“Naturally.”   
  
Still not willing to admit defeat, they call it a draw. But a lot of the earlier animosity is...gone.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you SO MUCH for reading my silly works. I am only able to produce this "much" content bc my workplace is uhhh, in second big covid slump...
> 
> I like sitting home though! 
> 
> anw, as always, feel free to leave a comment. They are super appreciated.


End file.
